A Cell of Survivors
by ZANIQ
Summary: This is my 1st stab at fan-fic, or any writing except a very few poems, so I'd really like some feedback. It is loosely based on the movies and books, takes place at the end of T3, with a twist if it works out. No claim to anything Terminator.


THE day the ground shook, ZJ O'Kerry was in her lab deep in the heart of the underground complex in the Sierra Nevedas. The lights flickered before switching to backup generators, and emergency procedures kicked in. The complex was being closed down tight from the outside world, she knew. It was fully self-sufficient for an extended period of time, if need be. It was owned by a corporation now, but used to be a government fall-out shelter. Now, it was a research facility that was fully staffed at all times. There was no company internet system, no direct contact with the outside world. The facilities were the best to be had, though, and there were plenty of people living there. Plenty of different projects going on at all times. It was very high security, with strict protocols. This was not a drill, though. The emergency lights continued to flash over each door.

The news, she discovered when she was done for the day, was horrific. TV and radio reports showed very little but bombed landscape, mechanical things going haywire, and some kind of robots and flying machines shooting people all over the world before all of it ended in static.

Doomsday. It had finally happened as endlessly predicted. Not that they could trust TV and radio reports. H.G. Wells had seen to that, followed by modern programs. Someone had to be sent out to confirm it. A few nearly hysterical people volunteered, and were sent to the nearest town in an old Jeep. Only one made it back, and he was seriously traumatized, not to mention burned by radiation. He reported the others dead by radiation and out-of-control machinery.

ZJ cuddled with her min pin, Tazi, and listened to the Chief of Security outline the rules they would live by, possibly for the rest of their lives. Every person there was a genius in some way or another. That's why they were paid well, treated well, and lived in luxury, on and off site. The auditorium now held 342 people, though a dozen guards remained on duty at key points of the installation. There was room for 100 more, at least. They were told that supplies had recently been rotated and updated, the above-ground buildings had been destroyed, and they should be safe from the mechs for awhile if they kept a low profile, even inside. No one would be permitted outside. Energy and supplies would have to be rationed. Training in survival, fighting, and weapons would begin for everyone at once. They would have to reduce the hours they spent on R and D for training and more mundane duties, such as taking care of themselves and keeping track of rations. The comm channels would be monitored 24/7. Chief Jordan was now in charge. When it was safer, they would go out and search for survivors. Meanwhile, they had to try to figure out how to disable the mechs and the computers that controlled them on a global scale. There would be safety and evacuation drills regularly. Any and all ideas would be welcome. He also had an aide pass out wrist comms that could be safely used inside, and explained the functions. ZJ paid attention enough to answer any questions put to her, but her eyes never left the dark, ruggedly attractive man speaking. She loved his glacier blue eyes, broad shoulders, towering height, lean body- everything about him. His low, gravelly voice made her toes curl. She didn't set eyes on him often enough. Not that she'd admit it, of course. She was the doctor in charge, always on call. When everyone filed out, having been grouped for training, she lingered and watched as he left by another door, which she knew led to the comm center.

Her martial arts instructor, Sensei Kai, had had her doing stealth recon all over the base ever since they arrived, planting traps in unexpected places, and had intensified her training in every area. He had other students here, too, but none as advanced as she was. She was especially grateful for that training; her sensei would be very busy with every person there, now.

She stood in the darkened room and made her way to the door Chief had gone through. She knocked once, then opened it and stepped inside. He was sitting in the chair in front of a semi-circular bank of screens and monitors, leaning forward with his head in his hands. The biggest and darkest German shepherd she'd ever seen, Shadow, was laying at his feet facing the door. He opened his eyes when she came in, then closed them again. He knew and trusted her. Tazi jumped from her arms and went to cuddle with him, both seeming to sense the gravity of the situation. The static from the radios seemed too loud, but he still should have heard them. She moved closer.

'Chief? Are you OK?'

He tensed at the sound of her voice, but sat up and looked over at her casually. 'I'm fine, Doc, thanks,' he said flatly, 'What do you need?'

'Nothing, really. You haven't heard anything on the radios?'

'I did soon after the first attacks. They were cut short. Nothing since then.'

She was deceptively fragile-looking, he knew. He'd seen her in the gym. She was strong and agile, slim but well built, and had the exotic look that spoke of a mixed heritage- Oriental, Irish, and Spanish that he knew of. Her hair was dark auburn, always worn in a braided bun so he didn't know how long it was, and her big, slightly slanted eyes were bright green.

'That must have been horrible,' she sympathized. 'If you need to talk, I'm here. You don't need to carry the burden alone, y'know.'

'I couldn't if I wanted to,' he shrugged, 'But thanks. I've got the best people working with me, including you.'

One of the radios started making a sporadic clicking sound, and they both went still until it stopped. He shrugged, again.

'We have to build an army, don't we?'

'Yeah.'

'Most of the specialists here are pampered. It won't be easy. There are others out there, though, I'm sure.' He nodded, and she snapped her fingers for Tazi, who got up, stretched leisurely, and jumped back up into her arms. 'Take it easy, Chief.' She turned to leave.

'How are you holding up, Doc?' he asked abruptly.

'I think I'm still in shock, like most are,' she admitted, 'but it's starting to sink in.'

'You know you can talk to me, too, right?'

'Thank you,' she smiled, 'and call me ZJ, please?'

'You're welcome, ZJ,' he nodded, 'You can call me Jordan.'

Just then her wrist comm beeped, and she answered it on her way out the door. She had people to train for emergency triage and paramedics. She stopped by the hydroponics gardens, a large central area, to let Tazi have a break before she went back to her clinic, though. Tazi had a large kennel in her office, and was trained to use the litter pan in it. Sometimes others would bring their small dogs or cats to play with her for short periods.

They were turning their idyllic living complex into a military camp now, though. Every person there was required to participate as fully as possible. Some would be working 'behind the scenes', not readily noticible, but needed there. Most would be all over the place, their R and D projects an afterthought or given up altogether. Part of the agreement of being a part of this facility was to test tech developed by NASA. The wrist comms were one example. Another was unisuits that shielded body heat from sensors, among other things. They were very fortunate to have so much in the way of resources, especially now.


End file.
